by Isabel Jolie
“If there are two visitors right now, what’s the process? Should I wait for one to leave the room?”
The nurse peered over her computer screen. Multi-colored hearts dotted her pastel scrubs.
“In the afternoon, we’re lenient. After dinner we try to keep things quiet and limit the number of visitors. Ms. Lai needs her rest. But a short visit won’t be a problem.”
“Good. I’m hoping I can relieve Mr. Lai and his daughter, so they can go home.”
Her eyebrows raised high. “Good luck with that. But if you can get Mr. Lai to take a break, you’ll be earning your keep. They’re right down that hallway. Room 389.”
My knuckle wrapped against a heavy, shut door, the dull thud of each knock hardly registering. Through the glass pane, a curtain hung from the ceiling. The fabric wavered, then she appeared. Dark hair behind her ears, curled into the neck of an oversized sweatshirt with a hoodie. The door opened, and she threw her arms around my neck, standing on tiptoes, and pressed her mask against my throat.
“Thank you for coming.” Her words came out as a breathy whisper.
The door, attempting to close, pressed against my arm, which was looped around her back. She smelled like fragrant flowers, an unusually potent scent for her, but it was still Cali, and I could swear her heartbeat against mine soothed us both.
When she broke our hug, I studied her, looking for signs of exhaustion. She wore leggings, and thick socks rode halfway up her calves. Tiny gold crosses dotted her ears. Without thinking, I reached up and ran my thumb over a lobe. She bowed her head and clasped her neck.
“My mom’s family gave them to me. Years ago.”
“How’s your mom?”
Four fingers clasped the doorframe and opened the door wider. An older gentleman with short black hair, flattened to his scalp, and dark eyes, stared me down.
“Dad, this is my friend, Logan.”
“Cali told me about you. Thank you for coming.” Her father’s eyes glassed over, and he bobbed his head and opened his mouth as if he had more to say. “Come in. Dahlia has been looking forward to meeting you.”
Dutifully, I followed them both into the room. Her father swung the curtain out of the way, unveiling the room. A slight woman with long white hair lay in the hospital bed, blankets pulled up to her shoulders. Whisper-light blue eyes blinked, lost in pale, colorless skin.
Her father stood at his wife’s head. The darker olive skin tones contrasted against his wife’s almost lucid skin as he lovingly brushed loose strands of hair out of her eyes.
“Can I get you something to drink? Would you like tea?” Exhaustion coated the man. His rote question went unnoticed by all. Just looking at his bloodshot eyes burned mine.
“Mom, this is Logan.”
“Logan. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I wish it was under better circumstances. Are they treating you right around here?”
“Yes. Such nice nurses. But that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to leave. Can you do something about getting me out of here?”
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid not. But I was hoping I could do something about getting Mr. Lai and your daughter to take a break. I’m available for night duty so they can get some sleep.” Figured I might as well put it out there. The man hovering at her side looked like he might fall down standing. I’d swear color flowed through her pale skin at my suggestion.
“That would be wonderful.”
“It’s not happening,” Mr. Lai responded, stern, lips in a flat line, hand on her shoulder.
Cali absently massaged her mother’s foot through the blankets. The two women gazed at each other, and a soft smile graced her mother’s lips. Cali wore a mask, but I sensed her return smile.
“Last night I stayed at my parents’. Dad refused to leave.”
“Oh, do you live nearby?” I asked the room.
“About thirty minutes away. It’s too far,” her father answered.
“Well, I got a hotel room that’s down the street. Less than a five-minute walk.” I whipped out the plastic key card. “I have a key for both you and Cali. Two queen beds. Whenever you want to use it, you can.”
“Dad, you need a shower.” He rubbed his jaw, which drew my attention to spotty growth along his face. Longer black strands clustered along his chin, but you could see he’d never grow in a full beard.
“Ronin, you do need a shower.” Her mother’s words were gentle and teasing, but sincere.
“I don’t have my shaving kit.”
“Dad, we can go back to the house and get you anything you need. Then you can go to the hotel and shower. You can stay overnight.”
“I can’t sleep without your mother. But she might appreciate it if I had a shower.”
“Dad wasn’t happy with the clothes I brought back for him this morning.” Cali cast her dad a loving smile.
“She brought me sweatpants.” He shook his head. “One step above pajamas.” Her dad wore a white button-down oxford and formal black slacks with a slick black leather belt. I wondered if somewhere in the room a tie lay cast aside.
A nurse tapped on the doorframe and entered.
“Good evening, Ms. Dahlia. How’re you doing?” She lifted her chart and checked numbers on the screen.
“Want to get out of here.”
The nurse chuckled. “That’s what they all say. You’d think we treat ’em badly.” She hung the clipboard back on the end of the bed. “You’re scheduled for some tests this evening. Probably in less than an hour I’m going to come and get you.”
“You’re letting me out of bed?”
“Where’d you get an idea like that? We’re wheeling the entire bed down the hall. We’ve got you down for an MRI and a CT scan. It’ll take a little while. So, if anyone wants to head out for a bit, that would be a good time to do it.” The nurse looked pointedly at Mr. Lai.
“I don’t have my—”
“Dad, tell me exactly what you need. We’ll run back to the house. While you’re getting a shower, Logan and I will wait here. If anything happens or you’re needed, you can get back here in five minutes.”
Mr. Lai frowned. He sucked in his lower lip. Then he shuffled to the sofa and fumbled around in a duffel bag. He pulled out a pen and paper and scribbled out a list.
“Logan, it looks like you’re about to be whisked away, but I’m sure I’ll get some good visiting time in before you leave. Doesn’t sound like they’re letting me out too soon. You’ll stay a bit, right? I want to get to know you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”
Her fingers brushed her throat, and Cali sprang into action, gathering a small pink plastic cup with a straw and holding it close so she could sip water. Her mom’s head sank into the pillow, and her eyes closed.
“She gets exhausted so easily,” Cali commented to herself, and the weight of the words fell around her. She bent and placed a masked kiss on her mother’s forehead, then looked to her father. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Out in the hall, Cali pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.
“I have a rental car. I didn’t know if we’d need it or not.”
“Great. Where are you parked?”
“At the hotel.”
“This’ll be faster.” She resumed tapping. “I’ll have the driver stay at the house while I run in and get some things.”
“Okay.” I didn’t agree, but I wouldn’t argue. If this was faster, and what she wanted to do, I’d follow along.
The Uber met us at the entrance to the hospital, and we both climbed into the back seat. After discussing the directions with the driver, and he let us know traffic on the 5 freeway wasn’t bad at the moment, Cali relaxed into the seat.
She held a hand out to the middle of the seat and flipped it over, welcoming my hand. I placed my hand over her palm. I wanted to tug her up against me, but she’d already fastened her seatbelt.
“It was really nice of you to come.”
/> “I wanted to be here for you. I worried about how you’d take it. But you didn’t even seem surprised.”
“I…it felt completely natural to see you there. Flying out here…I was blown away. It’s sweet. Who’s taking care of Nym?”
“Gabe and Poppy.”
“Was he okay with them?”
“I think so. I introduced Gabe. Had him feed him.”
“But not Poppy?”
“She wasn’t around.”
“Maybe we should tell Poppy not to come over.”
“Really? Does he bite?”
“If he thinks she’s breaking into the house, he’ll attack her. Did you give them his commands?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll text Poppy. Emphasize a few things.”
The sun lowered across the city landscape, and a dull pink haze mixed with cream filled the horizon. The light had grown dim enough most cars had turned their headlights on, and brake lights occasionally blinked red up ahead.
After she quit texting, I asked her, “How’re you holding up?” Her lower lip quivered.
“It’s tough. I don’t know if it’s tougher seeing my mom sick or my dad so worried. She has to be okay, Logan. I don’t know what my father will do if she’s not.”
“She looked pretty good to me.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but she didn’t look like someone at death’s door.
“I know. I agree. And I think she’s better than she was yesterday. Periodically, they’ve given her oxygen, you know, through the nose, just augmented oxygen, I guess, but she’s doing good. I just worry because she tires out so easily. And she sleeps so much.”
“Are they giving her anything to make her sleep?”
“I don’t think so. But it’s possible.”
“Heart medication can have all kinds of side effects. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Yeah.”
The driver exited the freeway and drove through an urban neighborhood, filled with newly constructed apartment buildings and townhomes. The newer area transitioned to an older neighborhood with a more traditional feel, with mature trees in the yards and dated architecture. The driver pulled up to a gated entry. Two brick pillars bookended the iron gates. She gave him a punch code, and the gates opened.
“Is this where you grew up?”
“No. I grew up nearby, though. In a much smaller house. Erik wanted our parents in a gated community. Actually, he tried to talk them into a high-rise, but Mom loves to garden. This house has a water view from the back yard. It’s an older home, but it’s completely remodeled. It’s nice. Really nice.”
The driver drove slowly as he read the mailbox numbers, and Cali leaned forward, directing him. “That one.”
“Here, I’ll be just a minute.”
“I’ll follow you. I need to use the restroom.”
“Okay.”
I followed her in, and she pointed to a half bath then jogged up the stairs. The house wasn’t at all what I would have expected. The minimalist modern design didn’t match her parents’ persona. The enormous modern kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances offset by white cabinets and marble countertops. Over the island, the marble cascaded from the top to the floor on two sides. The floors were yellow pine, the only element that showed the home’s age.
I entered the den, searching for some sign of Cali and her family. I discovered a portrait of a boy and girl, most likely in elementary school. On the other side of the window, two stacked portraits hung. Judging from the black drape over Cali’s shoulders, I guessed they were high school senior portraits. Her brother wore a suit. He, too, had black hair. He bore a noticeable resemblance to her father.
“You ready?” From the base of the stairs, she called out, “You’re lucky you’re seeing the remodeled home. If you’d seen our old home, family photos lined every inch of the walls. My mom loves photos. Photography is one of her hobbies.”
“Not too many now. It almost feels like your parents have it staged to sell.” There were no knickknacks, nothing to reveal a history or a personality.
“If I took you upstairs, or even downstairs to the basement, you’d find all of that. I think they caved to Erik’s designer on the main floor living areas.”
“It is beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is.” I sensed hesitation. Maybe she wasn’t such a fan? “Come on. I’ll bring you back here later. The back yard is the best spot.”
“Did you get clothes for yourself?” I asked because she only held one duffel. She shook her head. “Stay with me. We’ll be close by. They won’t let more than one person stay overnight, will they?”
“Good point. You’re good at this hospital stuff.”
Back at the hospital, when we entered her mother’s room, her father sat in the hospital room chair, bent over, his forehead resting on his palms. Without the bed in the room, an uneasy vacancy remained. His shoulders curved downward, creating the profile of a broken man.
“Dad?” Her voice, low and soft, sounded childlike. She touched his shoulder, and he slowly lifted his head, groggy and out of it.
“They’ll bring her back here in about an hour,” he said with a glazed expression.
“We got your things. It’s right in this bag. We’ll stay here and wait for her. She won’t be alone. Okay?”
He nodded, but his eyes held a vacant, faraway stare.
“Go get a shower. And lie down in the bed. See if you can get some rest. You won’t be any good to Mom if you collapse. No one can go without sleep.”
“I sleep at night. The sofa, it folds flat. I sleep.”
I didn’t broach the discussion between the two of them, but when I blew out my knee, I spent about a week in the hospital. No one slept well in a hospital.
“Come on, Dad. I’ll walk you out.”
He slowly stood. When he looked at me, he blinked, and the wrinkling around his eyes made me think he was trying to remember who I was and why I was there. But he smiled.
“Logan, you’ll stay here? Just in case.”
“Dad, they have our numbers.” They exchanged a single glance. “But of course, Logan will stay here while I walk you out. Someone will be here waiting for her at all times. I promise.”
Thirty minutes later, Cali returned. The plastic-like cushions crinkled as she joined me on the narrow sofa. She settled in against me, her head resting on my chest. The night shift transitioned in, and with the lights in the room dim, even with the bright fluorescent haze in the hall, it felt like we’d approached the twilight hours.
“Your father okay?” I asked to break the silence as much as anything.
“Yeah. I’m hoping he lies down and sleeps through the night. And it’s your hotel room. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d actually hoped you’d take the other bed and sleep too. Let me carry on with night duty.”
“You are being so good to us. To me. I can’t believe you actually came here.” Her arm wrapped around my waist. A warm sensation washed over me. It felt right. There was no other place I was supposed to be. No other place I could be other than by her side as she went through this with her family. I brushed a kiss across the top of her head, and she sighed into me as I held her.
“Did you ever see the film Lost in Translation?” I asked.
“Years ago.”
“Well, when I first asked you out, I think I thought we were a bit like those two characters. Two people lost in life at the moment, and that we might help each other.”
“I don’t remember the details…”
“The details aren’t important. She suspected her husband was cheating, and she wasn’t happy in her marriage but wasn’t dealing with it, and he didn’t have the most functional relationship either. And they’re in a foreign land for a couple of days and a friendship forms. I wouldn’t say the film ends with everything working out, but they’re stronger because of the friendship, maybe better able to handle the future. And, since we’re both divorcees, and find ourse
lves on this odd little island, almost a bubble unto itself, I guess…”
“You thought we would help each other get to a better place?”
“A rebound version of the film.” I smirked. If she didn’t get the comparison, I couldn’t blame her. “You didn’t want to date me, remember? But I pushed because I think I had that in the back of my mind. That we could be good for each other. That it was time for us, or for me, at least, to move forward.”
She didn’t raise her head. She didn’t move. I had no idea what she was thinking. But we were in a hospital room, so I figured the chances were good her thoughts were with her family.
“Your heartbeat is strong and steady.” Her head lay against my chest as I combed my fingers through her hair. “I’m so grateful to have you here. I don’t think I could do this alone.” Her voice quivered.
“You don’t have to.”
“I care about you, too. I don’t know what the future holds, but please never doubt that.” Emotion overflowed in her words, and I tightened my hold on her, soothing her beneath harsh fluorescent lights.
Minutes ticked by. The long hand on the white wall clock documented every single one.
“Tell me about Chicago.”
“Why?” Her out-of-the-blue question threw me.
“We’ve got time to kill. And I’m hungry, and I’d rather not think about that.”
“I can go get you food.”
“If Dad returns, we can eat together. For now, I’m too content to move.”
“Got it. So…Chicago.” I didn’t like to think about the place, because then I remembered. But she wanted to talk cities. “It’s great. You ever been?”
“Once for a conference. I liked it.”
“Yeah, I love the summers there. The winters I’m not missing so much.”
“Is that why you left? The winters?”
“No. I told you. My ex wanted me to leave.” A pummel pounded my chest at the admission. I pushed forward, laying it out there in the most non-melodramatic way possible. “What I didn’t tell you is that I lost my temper. Anger management issue. That’s what the psychologist called it. Leaving the state was part of my divorce agreement. Because Bethany feared for her lover’s life. My buddy stepped in, pulled some favors. He said someone with my background would be useful down on Haven, but I’ve always known it had nothing to do with being useful. He believed I needed something low-key so I could, you know, regroup.”